Turning Point
by moonlit doe
Summary: What happens when the doctor falls apart? Will Spencer Reid be there to pick up them pieces?


The change

She enters the room and slams the door behind her. Her face contorted in anger. She pulls off her jacket and throws it down on the floor. She stomps on it many times muttering under her breath. Tears running down her face. Completely oblivious to everything including him being in the room.

He is shocked. He's never seen her like this before or even imagined she could be like this.

He stand up and says her name," Doctor Wurlitzer."

No reaction, so he says it louder, "Doctor Wurlitzer."

Still no response. He moves closer and touches her arm "Laura?"

She gasps as she pulls her arm away. She looks at him, as if not recognizing.

"Dr. Reid. I, I'm sorry I didn't realize you were here."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"No" she says. She crosses her arms and walks over to the window. She rests her forehead against its cool pane.

He can see her shaking, trying to regain her composure, to get herself under control. Even though he has only known her for only a week he wants to go to her, to comfort her.

She sighs and turns to him tears still running down her cheeks, "I'm sorry Dr. Reid I can't do this right now." Her voice falters. "I, I need to go."

She runs out of the room and down the steps. He grabs his satchel and follows her.

Once outside he catches up to her. They walk silently together. She holds her arms crossed over her chest, as if trying to shut everything out or hold herself in.

Suddenly she stops in the middle of a block turns and looks at him. "How do you do it Dr. Reid?"

"Do want?" he asks confused

"The things you see, day after day, the pain, the depravity. It must be truly horrific. How do you deal with it?"

"I don't know" he says shrugging his shoulders. "I write sometimes. It helps me to organize my thoughts."

She starts walking again. He follows silently, trying to think of a better answer to her question. Only he can't think of one because he doesn't know how he deals with it.

"I don't know how I deal with it," he says honestly. "Sometimes I don't. It haunts me sometimes, in my dreams."

She walks quietly, taking this in. "Working in the ER, you see a lot of things," she says. "You see lives wasted, wasted on a daily basis. I hate to say it but you become accustomed to it after a while. I imagine it is the same with you. The bizarre becomes commonplace. "

"But today," he asks

"Today was different," she says. "A 17 year old junkie came in today. She delivered herself of a pregnancy of which she wasn't even aware. Let alone care. The baby was premature. After delivering she asked if she could leave. She was more concerned about her next fix that the child she had just had."

"Is that what is bothering you?" he asks.

"No," she replies. "Procedure states that 20 weeks is the age of viability. If they are less than 20 weeks we can't do anything for them. This child was less than 20 weeks. It was so small, like a peanut, it could fit on my palm." She held out her hand to demonstrate.

"Technically the child should have been stillborn, or died shortly after birth" she continues. "But this one didn't. Even though science states that babies don't produce surfactant until 25 weeks of age and shouldn't be able to breath, this child was breathing on its own. It even cried."

They had come to a park during their walk. She sat down on a bench, tears again staining her face.

"It was like this child knew it had only one chance and it was going to make the most of it," she started as the tears started flowing. "It didn't want to die. And because Frank is such an asshole, I had to stay with it. For four hours I sat there watching that baby take each breath. Its tiny chest rising and falling with such effort, but not wanting to give up, knowing it only had one chance, one chance."

Her voices rises "I would give anything, anything to erase those last four hours from my mind. But people like you and me can't delete those things. We can't erase them." She was sobbing now.

"That child deserved a better life. It deserved a chance," She put her head in her hands and sobbed. The sobs shaking her whole body.

He pondered what to do for a millisecond. Then he put his arms around her, encircling her. He normally hated touching people. But he felt she needed it. Needed human contact and to know someone cared.

She put her head on his chest, sobs still shaking her body. He closed his eyes. Time moved slowly.

It was only a few minutes, but to him it seemed like hours. She broke the embrace sniffling, "I'm so sorry," she said. Wiping her nose with the back on her hand.

He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handled it to her.

"Thank you," she said taking the handkerchief and wiping her nose. "I'm so sorry. I'm supposed to be the doctor and you the patient. I'm supposed to listen to you, not the other way around." She blew her nose.

"That's ok," he said as he grinned

"I usually don't fall apart like this" she said

"That's ok," he said. "We all do sometimes."

"Even you," she asked

"Yes, even me," he replied

"Yeah well," she chuckled. "You caught me on a bad day." She shivers.

"Are you cold?" he asked

"Yes" she replied shivering again.

"Here," he says as he starts to take off his sweater.

"No. No," she says." "You've done enough already.

He places the sweater over her shoulders and pulls it closed around her chest. His hands linger there for a moment and he wonders why this feels so natural, so right.

"Thank you," she says as she pulls back from him and slips her arms into the sweater. "We better be getting back. It's starting to get dark.

He hadn't even noticed.

As they walk back, questions enter his mind.

"Who is Frank?" he asks.

"Frank is the new attending," she says.

He looks at her quizzically.

"He is the attending physician of the emergency room," she explains. "My boss. I am still just a resident."

"But why did he make you stay with the baby? Wouldn't that be someone else's job, like a nurse?"

"Normally yes," she says. "But Frank is of the opinion that I'm too cocky. That I'm too smart for my own good and I need to be knocked down a few pegs. He made me stay to punish me."

"Seriously" he asked incredulously.

She shakes her head.

"He actually said that to you?

"The first part yes. The punishment part I just surmised. He said it might teach me humility."

"I can't believe someone would do that to you."

"Not everyone reacts to our gifts, our intelligence well," she said. "Frank is your typical alpha male. He needs to feel superior, like he's the best. Then someone like me comes along who is quite obviously smarter and better than him. He feels threatened. He acts out. It happens to me all the time. Hasn't that happened to you?"

"No, not really," "Most people react to me with confusion. Not outright disdain."

"Probably because you're a male."

"Why do you think that?"

"No offense, Dr. Reid, but an alpha male would not see you as a threat. You're quiet and shy and you are not going to challenge their authority. Their intelligence maybe, but not their authority. Despite the fact that most males say they are enlightened, they still believe the female should be subservient and nurturing. I may be nurturing but am no way or form subservient. Therefore they react badly to me. They see me as challenging them."

"And females?"

"Females on the whole tend to be more understanding and tolerant," she said. "For some reason they seem to want to take care of me. I'm not sure why as I can take care of myself. At least, most of the time. There are a few who may see me as a threat. But in my experience they are few and far between."

They had arrived back at the hospital now. She took the one step in front of the staff entrance, turned and faced him. Standing on the step made them the same height. She looked into his eyes.

"Dr. Reid, I"

"Spencer," he interrupted.

"What?"

"Spencer, my name. Please call me Spencer."

"Very well," she said. "But only if you call me Laura." She took a deep breath. "Spencer, I want to apologize again for how I acted. It was very unprofessional of me. And I hope it will not taint your image of me as your therapist."

"It doesn't."

She took another deep breath in. "At the same time I want to thank you." She took his hands in hers. He felt no need to pull away from her as he did with other people. Her hands felt warm in his, and that warmth began to spread up his hands into his arms and beyond.

"It is exceedingly rare that I find someone who will listen to me," she says. "Let alone understand. I really want to thank you for that. I'm, I'm grateful."

She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. Then she turns and walks through the door, leaving him standing there dumbfounded.


End file.
